


Summer Falls

by wesawbears



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Case Fic, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fate & Destiny, Getting Together, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29358192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesawbears/pseuds/wesawbears
Summary: On the road, it's very difficult for Jaskier to find a place to bathe that's up to his standards. Luckily for him, fate and a mysterious creature steps in to fulfill his wish. For Geralt, it just means more work, chasing the bard, and fate forcing him to face his growing feelings for Jaskier. Written for the Geraskier Reverse Bang.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 86
Collections: GRB2020 Team Works





	Summer Falls

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to K_Hansen for providing the art that inspired this fic! I hope you all enjoy it, and the little game easter eggs I've put throughout.

As much as he relished (a word he begrudgingly used) a warm bath in an inn, or in the hot springs of Kaer Morhen, the reality of life for a witcher was that more often than not, bathing was actually washing off in a river that was too cold and left you smelling of mud. Occasionally, the odd clean creek would appear where he could actually see the bottom of the pool. On the road, he took what he could get. The clean feeling never lasted long anyway.

Jaskier, however, took the absence of bathing options as a personal affront, and as such, had decided to pass the time between towns developing a nearly hawk-like eye for any body of water he could find. The trouble is, he rarely stopped to consider that the reason for such a peaceful, undisturbed oasis might be whatever monsters or creatures guarded it. More than once Geralt had needed to keep a pack of drowners from pulling Jaskier under the water, or fight off a group of echidnas lurking under the surface. 

Which led to today, as Geralt finished off the last of the drowners who had swarmed as soon as Jaskier’s toe hit the sand. He wiped the blood off his forehead and looked down. On the bright side, he was running low on drowner tongue.

“Ah, Geralt, in the nick of time, as always. Though, I do confess, maybe showing up before the monsters are at my throat next time might make for an interesting change of pace.”

Geralt turned and shot him a flat look.

“Then again, you’re the expert on, ah, monster timing. Good to catch them by surprise!”

“Hmm.”

“And, hey, fortunately, there is a lake right here now to wash the blood from your hair. You’re welcome!”

Geralt answered by using aard to send a wave Jaskier’s direction. 

“Really, Geralt, was that absolutely necessary of you? To soak my poor doublet like that?” He smoothed it out for the tenth time over a log, trying to get it to dry from the heat of the fire. He lounged about in his undershirt, glaring over at Geralt.

“I’m sure it will dry.”

Jaskier scoffed. “Yes, but the fabric is delicate! Who knows what stains or wrinkles will make their home there!”

Geralt only smirked slightly, which only incensed Jaskier more. “You could at least pretend to give a shit.”

“About your clothes? I really couldn’t.”

“You...boor. I’m going to bed.” Jaskier went to his bedroll, fully aware that he looked like a petulant child. But really, was it that difficult to respect other people’s things? All Jaskier had wanted was a bath. It wasn’t his fault that drowners “nested near water and always had, Jaskier”. 

Geralt seemed content to ignore his outburst, and soon enough their camp was quiet, save for the sound of Geralt’s even, slow breathing as he settled on the far side of camp to meditate. The first time he’d seen it he’d half thought that Geralt wasn’t breathing at all, but over time he’d learned to pick it out.

He was drifting to sleep when he saw something at the edge of the tree line. Normally, he would go with what he’d been instructed, which was to alert Geralt if anything seemed off. However, whatever it was lurking in the shadows didn’t seem like a monster. It looked like a beam of light and it was calling to Jaskier. It felt safe, like a mother’s kiss on the forehead after he’d started to fall asleep.

He glanced at Geralt, ensuring that he was still lost in his meditation, and slipped quietly from his bedroll. So entranced by the light, he didn’t even bother to put on his boots as he followed the bobbing figure into the forest.

It seemed to glow white, but Jaskier had to focus in order to really see it. It seemed almost sheer in the moonlight. Instead, he focused on its soft cooing and the feeling that following it was a good idea. He couldn’t describe it exactly, but it was similar to how he felt when he’d met Geralt in Posada. A gut feeling that this was the right choice, to follow.

And so he followed, deeper and deeper into the woods.

\--

Geralt eased himself out of his meditative state, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness around him. It was nothing compared to the illumination of Cat, but he still saw more in the darkness than a human would. It’s how he was able to immediately sense that something was wrong.

He looked over to where Jaskier had settled for the night and found his bedroll empty. Normally, he would just assume he had gone to take care of business, but his scent was stale, as though he’d been gone two hours, by his best guess. He looked to Roach, who looked a little ruffled. The whole scene was tinged with the faint scent of magic, like burnt spices, that tingled as it hit his enhanced senses. Sighing, he turned to his pack. He’d have no choice but to go after the bard. Provided he could determine what he’d gone after.

It seemed that whatever it was, Jaskier had gone willingly, or at least seemingly, as there didn’t seem to be any signs of struggle. He was able to track Jaskier’s footprints through the forest, as well as the lingering scent of perfume Geralt was familiar with. It helped that he knew Jaskier so well.

As he followed his scent further into the forest, the path seemed to wind more and more. More concerningly, the tinge of magic grew stronger. Without his enhanced senses and experience trudging through forests, it would be easy for a human to become lost in these woods. What’s more, most creatures left some kind of trace. If not prints, then leftover traces of fur, claw marks, something. 

He pondered what he could be missing, when he zeroed in on a flicker of light from the corner of his eye. He focused more closely, narrowing in on the source. Before him, he saw faint traces of lights, like little pockets. 

A will o’ the wisp. 

They were rare, especially here, but perhaps they’d wandered farther off the main road than he’d thought. The situation was delicate. Will o’ the wisps weren’t something he could fight. They were ephemeral, magical, not monsters. And their intentions weren’t always monstrous either. The trick was that they dealt in fate (the irony of that didn’t escape Geralt either). Like the Law of Surprise, they were just as likely to lead you to a small fortune as to your death. It tended to adapt based on the aura of those that crossed its path. The problem was, Jaskier’s general intentions and moods were as unpredictable as the will o’ the wisp’s. Who knows what it read in him?

In the past, Geralt had made it a point to avoid following them anywhere. He didn’t want to know what could be, and he certainly didn’t trust himself to come across as benevolent enough to earn a nice boon. Despite his misgivings about the whole affair, he couldn’t leave Jaskier to fend for himself. For one thing, it was magic. For another, it was Jaskier. He wouldn’t trust Jaskier with a lucky rabbit, let alone a pot of gold.

As the search dragged on and the forest grew thicker, Geralt’s nerves became more and more frayed. Beyond just the frustration of the search and the unknown intentions of the creature, time was also a complication. Jaskier would need food and water soon, as he hadn’t taken anything with him. Just as Geralt was beginning to worry in earnest, he noted an entrance ahead of him. He pulled one of his swords from his back and cut through the thicket of branches in front of him, staying vigilant in case something lived in this cave. It wouldn’t be a surprise, considering how many times he’d been hired to clear out caves just like this one. Best case scenario, there were a few drowners. Worst,..it was a hard decision between giant centipedes and foglets. But nothing indicated that either had made their homes here.

He stepped inside and found the entrance to be much shorter than he thought. Burrowed in a corner, he found Jaskier asleep, curled between some rocks.

“Jaskier!” he called out, voice sharper than he’d intended. When the other man didn’t respond, he knelt by him and shook his shoulder. He didn’t respond to that either, until Geralt huffed in frustration and rolled him onto his back. 

“Ow! Fucking what was- oh, Geralt!” 

The bard looked around. “What...are we doing in a cave? I appreciate the shelter, but you could have put me anywhere except directly on this rock- oh, who am I kidding, that was probably intentional-”

“Jaskier.”

He sat up. “You could at least put away your sword. Unless- you didn’t set up camp in the middle of a fairy circle again?”

“No. And that was you, Jaskier.”

Jaskier ignored him in favor of walking to the edge of the cave. “So, if it wasn’t you, why are we here?”

“What do you remember?”

“Not much. Just...waking up and feeling like I needed to go find something.”

“Hmm.”

“A deep, contemplative hmm. I assume you know what happened then?”

“I can guess. Will o’ the wisp.”

“Those can’t be real. Geralt! Why do you usually always keep the interesting creatures from me!” Jaskier exclaimed, hands on his hips.

“Because you would probably go chasing after them. Turns out I was right.”

“It’s magic, Geralt! I can’t be at fault for that.”

“Hmm.”

“Regardless, Jaskier continued, unaffected by Geralt’s noncommittal response, “if it led us-”

“You.”

“-us all the way out here, I would like to find out what they wanted me to find.”

“Maybe it wanted you to find the cave.”

“Mmm. Don’t think so,” Jaskier answered, patting Geralt on the arm as he headed toward the exit.

Geralt grunted and followed after him, still wielding his sword in case they ran across anything unsavory. It didn’t take long though before Jaskier was shouting for Geralt to hurry. He hastened, unsure of what kind of trouble Jaskier could have found.

When he finally stopped, he saw Jaskier gesturing to a large lake, with a waterfall billowing out before them. The water sparkled in the sunlight coming through the trees and lush greenery grew around the spot. 

“Looks like we found the edge of the forest.”

“Geralt! It’s beautiful. And just when we were both aching for a proper bath.” He started to work on stripping off his clothes until he was left in just his braies.

Annoyingly, Geralt felt his face warm. He had seen Jaskier without a shirt hundreds of times, but it was usually in fleeting moments of firelight or a candlelit inn room. In the full sunshine, it seemed to reflect off his broad shoulders, muscles flexing as he stretched them excitedly. Long gone was the lean youth Jaskier had been when they met. He was in full bloom now, and Geralt couldn’t help but notice it.

“Are you coming in? You reek like a dead horse.”

Geralt shook his head and did the same, joining Jaskier in the water. He felt no shame when it came to his body. Couldn’t afford to really, in his line of work, and he knew Jaskier viewed his scars with curious fascination, rather than disgust. Still, he knew he didn’t look the same as Jaskier. His skin was too pale,his hair too brittle. Summer had never suited him.

Jaskier moved closer and put his hands on Geralt’s chest. “Will you stop thinking whatever hateful thoughts are making you frown and enjoy yourself? You said yourself, you were dying for a bath.”

“Was I?” Geralt murmured, aware of their proximity.

“Of course you were. You’re thinking, “how lovely of Jaskier to serendipitously lead us to this splendid little alcove, full of-”

Geralt pushed Jaskier lightly so he fell into the water.

Jaskier sputtered gracelessly as he emerged while Geralt laughed.. “You are a boor.”

Geralt chuckled and swam closer, shaking his hair out so it splashed Jaskier. 

The bard continued muttering, “an absolute boor. No manners. I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“For the stories?”

“Mmm. The stories,” Jaskier said, though Geralt saw his mouth press into a hard line at that, the mirth not quite reaching his eyes.

He looked at him in the light and thought of how fortunate they were to have been brought here. He wouldn’t have known what to do if he’d walked into that cove and found Jaskier-

“Geralt? You’re looking paler than usual.”

“I’m-fine. Just thinking.”

Jaskier hummed and clasped his shoulder. “Oh, to know what goes on in your head.”

“You wouldn’t want to.”

“Oh, I very much would.”

Geralt looked at Jaskier and wanted to say so much. How he would never understand why Jaskier looked at him without flinching. How much the bard frustrated him and yet how the days on the path without him were worse. How the idea of Jaskier wandering where Geralt couldn’t protect him scared him more than any monster could.

Instead of saying any of that, he pressed closer and pulled Jaskier into a kiss, relishing the way the bard gasped against his mouth. After a moment, he pulled away, letting his forehead rest against Jaskier’s.

He felt Jaskier chuckle against his neck. “Lucky will o’ the wisp.”

“Mmm.”

They would have to leave the pool eventually, find their things and continue on in the real world, but for now, they could stay a little longer in their slice of fate.


End file.
